This
is a work of fiction. Any resemblance with actual people and
situations is purely coincidental.

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Dedicated to the women in
my life that have tried to put me on the right path.

Chapter 1: Horace

Horace couldn’t
handle life any more.

“And get the fuck
out of my sight, you good-for-nothing temp!” the man screamed in
his face. The man, in this case, as in, the man.
His boss.

It was the final
straw. He quickly threw his personal things in a box and promptly
emptied his office space.

“Are you gonna
just let him talk to you like that?” a female voice said next to
him.

He spun around,
still shoving things in his box. She was gorgeous, with a perfect
neckline that she made sure to show by raising her nose high. “What?
Who are you?”

“I’m Superbia.
Now, back to our topic. Are you just gonna let him talk to you like
that? The boss? He fired you already, didn’t he? Why are you taking
it like a pussy?” She twirled a finger in the air, as if pointing
at the whole situation.

He leaned on the
box. “I’m sorry lady, I haven’t seen you here before. You must
be new. If you are, I’m deeply sorry for you but I hope you get
more out of this hellhole than I had. Now, as for you calling me a
pussy...”

She had full, red
lips. She popped them, breathing out and repeating the word, “Pussy.”

“Now look here
you-”

“Oh, look, there’s
some spine left in you after all. Now point that thing where you
should.” She deflected his comeback and pointed a manicured finger
at the boss’s office.

Horace had no clue
what was happening. What he did know was that the pretty, annoying
lady had a point. What was he so afraid of? Getting fired again?
Getting yelled at? The boss had terrorised his existence for so long
that he might as well be a pussy.

No.

Horace squeezed his
fists and stormed into the boss’s office.

He stood up, holding
a phone in hand. “Are you still here? Horace Cadmus, since you’re
too thick to get this through your skull: You’ve been fired!”

He turned back to
the phone, thinking the matter over.

Horace swallowed and
stepped forward, then pressed the phone’s button to end the call.

“What are- Horace!
That was an important phone call-”

“I want a letter
of recommendation from you.” Horace said calmly, and planted his
feet.

His former boss
chuckled. “A letter of recommendation? I wouldn’t recommend you
as a plug to my waste management service. If I told you to stay there
and keep the shit in with your worthless carcass, you’d find a way
to spray them all over the place.”

It wasn’t funny.
It was just mean, and not even clever, as comebacks went. Horace
gritted his teeth and didn’t budge.

“Get the fuck out
of my sight before I call security,” the boss waved him away,
pressing numbers for a call.

Horace wavered. He
was about to leave. He had given his last stand, right?

He saw the pretty
blonde sitting on top of his desk, going through his things,
chuckling with what she found. He knew exactly what she was laughing
about. It was his action figures. They were toys, but Horace liked to
keep them around. Especially the female ones.

Horace pressed the
button and cancelled his ex-boss’s call again.

He was furious.
“Now, you worthless shit, I’ll kick you out myself!”

“I’m gonna tell
people about Evie.”

The boss’s wrath
evaporated. He mumbled a few sentences, then hurried and shut the
door. “There’s nothing to tell. You’re bluffing.”

“Oh, there is. You
see, I’m friends with Evie, and she told me everything. Not that
she needed to, I have eyes. I saw your sexual advances. But I have
your dickpics here, the ones you sent her.”

The boss went pale.
He sat down on his big-boss chair.

Horace swiped his
phone and logged into Evie’s Agora account. “I have her password.
She won’t mind me doing this, actually, I believe it will lift a
weight off of her. There you go, nice and hairy.”

The boss recognised
the picture. It was what he saw every day as he looked down and
relieved himself.

“Timestamped and
everything. Proof of sexual advances during the time she was working
here, in which you made her life a living hell. Do I really need to
spell out sexual harassment for you? Wait, this is very selfish of
me!” Horace tapped his finger on the side of his mouth. “I’m
only thinking of myself. Make those two letters of recommendation,
one for me, one for Evie. She’s been out of work for two months
now, the poor girl has been to fifty interviews already and no luck.”

The boss cleared his
throat but otherwise stared, wide-eyed.

Horace leaned
forward, propping himself up on the desk by his arms. “I don’t
see you writing,” he said, snarling the words.

Chapter 2: Horace

Having nothing to do
and being on the other side of Athens, Horace went to a cafe and
plopped himself down opposite his box. He ordered a vodka instead of
a coffee, because his nerves were shot.

He still couldn’t
believe what he had done. This was so out of character for him. He
read and reread the printed letters of recommendation for him and
Evie. Glowing words for the both of them, signed by the boss himself.

His vodka lime came
and he downed it in a single chug. It gave him a slight buzz, but
that was exactly what he needed right now.

“Not a pussy,
then,” a familiar voice came from behind.

He turned around,
and found the same lady from before, sipping a latte on the table
behind him. And it seemed like she had been there for quite some
time.

Horace squinted at
her. “Thanks for the kick in the balls, but who are you?”

She sighed but she
looked more sexy than annoyed. “Superbia Hyperephania. Call me
Superbia. And I don’t take shit from anyone.”

“No, you wouldn’t.
I’m Horace. Cadmus. As in call me Horace, and my last name is
Cadmus,” he stuttered.

She waved it away.
“Oh, Horace, we’ve fought a corporate minion today and won! You
should be delighted. Come celebrate with me.”

He thought about it
for a second, then picked up his box and his glass of water and sat
across Superbia. He caught her smiling at the box but decided to let
it go. She had prodded him to stand up for himself, after all. Gosh,
he still couldn’t believe it.

“Another vodka? Or
not, let’s not make Gula happy this early.”

“Who?”

She clicked her
tongue. “You’ll see. Now, Horace, let me give you my token.
Download the app so you can collect it.”

He shook his head,
but curiosity got the better of him. He located the app, which was
real much to his surprise, and tapped the button to install it. It
popped up a Terms Of Service legalese sheet which Horace instantly
accepted with his thumb. It took a minute or so to finish, during
which he took the time to look more closely at the woman. She was
dressed in a violet skirt suit, which despite being modest drew
plenty of attention to her lovely legs. She had perfect blonde hair,
full lips and makeup that turned her blue eyes magnetic.

If this day hadn’t
been so weird, he’d have time to question why such a gorgeous woman
would give him the time of day.

The app glinged and
he opened it, pointing his phone at Superbia.

Hovering between
them was an Augmented Reality Object, semi-transparent and visible to
anyone with an AR app. It was indeed something like a token, with the
word pride
written in Greek on it, ΥΠΕΡΗΦΑΝΙΑ.

“What am I
supposed to do with it?” Horace asked, scratching his nose.

“Okay,” Horace
shrugged and tapped on the app. The token was collected and he saw it
increasing a counter, one of seven. “I don’t understand,
Superbia, what is this? A video game, what?”

“It is a game of
sorts, but the stakes are much higher,” she said meaningfully. She
added with a deeper voice, “And so are the rewards.” She swapped
her crossed legs and gave him a full Basic Instinct.

Horace gulped. He
lost his words for a while. “I-I don’t understand, the token,
you, anything.”

She raised her head,
practically staring down at him. “You, Horace Cadmus, are to go
through the Evil Thoughts test. Many, many mortals have gone through
it but few have survived. The dangers are great but so are the
rewards, as I said earlier. You will meet my sisters and we will help
you along with your life, nudging you in the right direction. Should
you manage to satisfy all seven of us and pass the test, you will be
amongst the few men who have achieved their dreams.”

Horace went through
a dozen of emotions. He frowned, he winced, he smiled, he gritted his
teeth, he leered at her legs, he rubbed his face.

Finally, he stood up
and said, “You, lady, are nuts. Goodbye.” He picked up his box
and left the cafe.

Chapter 3: Horace

“So, I needed to
come clean with you immediately, in case you got an email about
unauthorised logins to devices or anything,” Horace said, waving
his arms around.

“It’s okay,”
Evie shrugged, hugging her legs on the bed. She was in her floral
pyjamas and looked unkempt, but Horace still thought she looked
pretty. She was a very cute black girl, the only one he ever knew,
really, with a round face and lots of curly hair in browns and golden
hues. “I know you didn’t do anything else. Though I should change
my password at some point, I think I’ve used it elsewhere too.”

“You really
should.”

Her apartment was
small, made for a single person to live in. One room, some separation
from the kitchenette/table/entry hall and a tiny bathroom with a
shower. The laundry machine was the dominant piece in said bathroom,
and Horace had to bend sideways every time needed to pee.

Horace’s eye went
for the illustrations she had printed out. They were fantasy ladies,
clad in armour, wielding weapons or staffs that glowed with energy,
riding dragons or standing at the top of a pile of fallen skeletons.
He found it funny that he had converted her to the dark side. Couple
of years ago Evie would consider all this stupid, and would say so
out loud and at every opportunity. But when he finally found the
perfect game for her she dove in and absolutely loved it. It was a
fantasy game where she played a powerful queen, slaying enemies,
gathering up more magical power, dressing up in fabulous gear with
exquisite detail.

It was the first
epic drop she got from the game that she printed out, and it hung
there on the wall. There were many more after that, in a progression
typical of all role-playing-games on the computer. Bigger, bulkier,
shinier, you could see with a single turn of your gaze her
character’s progression in the game from a lowly princess to a
powerful queen and finally an awe-inspiring empress.

Horace hadn’t seen
the latest printouts, they must have been new. After all, he had no
time to play online with her and she had.

She must have
noticed him looking around and she became self-conscious. “Um,
sorry for the mess,” she said, her throat dry.

“Puh-lease. I’m
a bachelor. This is way better than mine. Anyway, here’s the
letter.”

His friend accepted
it, sniffing as she read. Her eyes widened. “Wow! How did you
manage that?”

Horace shrugged. “I
blackmailed him.”

“Hooo- what now?”
she glared. “Damn, shoulda been there to see that. Nice work,
Horace!” She punched him on the shoulder.

“Nah, why would
you ever wanna walk back to that depressing place? I hope it helps a
bit.”

“It will, Horace.
Thanks,” Evie said sincerely. “Not that I’m not happy about it,
but this whole thing, standing up for yourself, it’s very
uncharacteristic of you.” She waved towards him, then quickly
added, “Not that I’m complaining.”

Horace rubbed his
neck. “Yeah, it was weird, actually. There was this strange woman
at the office which I’ve never met before, um... Superbia. Weird
name, I know. And she kinda prodded me to stand up for myself. And I
did. And then I went for a coffee to calm down ‘cause my heart was
pounding and I couldn’t believe what I’d done myself, and there
she was again.”

“Wait,” Evie
interrupted with a palm up, “she stalked you? How far?”

“Eh... Not that
far, it wasn’t the cafe down the corner ‘cause I didn’t wanna
stumble on anyone from work. So I walked a couple of blocks, at
least, then just sat down at the first cafe I saw. It was definitely
not within ‘grabbing a cup and going back to work’ range, but not
by far.”

“And what did she
say?” Evie asked, seeming interested. “And was she hot?” she
raised an eyebrow.

He chuckled
nervously. “Yeah, she was hot. She said the weirdest things. She
had me download an app, then gave me an AR token with the word pride
written on it in Greek, then she went on and on about some deal and
success and danger. I had enough of her at that point and told her
she was nuts and stormed off.”

Evie chuckled.
“Ballsy. I’d never imagine you doing what you described.”

She brought orange
juice and it was nice and cool. It had been a warm day and Horace was
after all chugging his box along in the heat of the metro. Evie lived
in the centre, at Pangrati. It was close enough to make commute
bearable wherever she might find work. Horace, on the other hand, had
to endure at least an hour of commute-time and two or three mass
transit swaps to get anywhere.

Oh, well.

She had a small fan
blowing a bit of air from the window. It barely did anything and it
had seen better days.

“Is it too hot?
Want me to put on the air conditioner? I’m saving up but with you
here I can spare it.”

A sore subject. She
looked away, pulling her legs close to her body. “No... I have one
next week. I went and applied for unemployment benefits yesterday,
when that clears I’ll be fine for a while. Well, for a couple of
months if I stretch out expenses.”

“It’s okay,
something will come up.” He hesitated, then repeated his
invitation. “You know you can always crash with me if things get
tight, right?”

She gave him a tight
smile and nodded.

“Anyway, Evie, I’m
off. Just wanted to come over and see what you’re doing, and to
give you the letter of recommendation. Good luck with the job
hunting! To the both of us.”

She greeted him off
at the door, nodding away and folding her arms to her chest.

Horace left, but he
kept thinking about his friend. She looked vulnerable, and the male
part of his brain wanted to protect her and take care of her. But who
was he kidding? He was in no position to take care of anyone, not
even himself.

He took the long
commute north, back towards home.

Chapter 4: Superbia

“What did you
think of him?” the rich woman said.

The blonde replied,
“I’m not sure yet. He has potential, but it remains to be seen.

The top-floor
restaurant overlooking the Parthenon was one of the finest in Plaka.
A waiter poured more champagne in their glasses and they clinked them
together, just a slight tap, like ladies.

“Here’s to a
good one, then,” the rich woman said. She wiped the edge of her
mouth with a fancy cloth napkin, and breathed in as if preparing
herself for something. “Did you get him to agree to the terms?”

The blonde grinned.
“He didn’t even glance at them, he agreed on the spot.”

“Excellent, my
dear,” the rich woman said with restrained joy.

“I’m certain our
sisters are on their way to him as we speak.”

The rich woman
looked up, thinking. Her golden jewelry tingled as she moved her
neck. “I have this image in my mind of Acedia running towards him.”

“Well, she might
run indeed, so that she may have more time sitting around and doing
nothing.”

The rich woman
chuckled at that. “Good one. Actually, I wouldn’t put it past
her. She really does have strange motivations. Or lack thereof.”
She picked up her ridiculously expensive clutch and fished out her
credit card. With a slight wave, the waiter strode close and took it,
going off to complete the payment.

“Why do you always
come here before a job?”

The rich woman
glanced at the ancient temple atop the Acropolis hill. She gave it
some introspection. “It... grounds me. Helps me remember who we
are.”

The blonde grunted
and nodded, apparently satisfied with the answer.

“Not to mention
that this is the last bit of luxury I can enjoy for a long while,”
the rich woman said, taking in the champagne’s aroma.

Chapter 5: Horace

Horace queued to get
through the automatic gates at the metro station. He juggled his box
of things and his electronic pass in his hands. As he was about to
swipe and go through, a large man cut him off and swiped instead,
walking in front of him. Horace found it rude but let it go, and
harrumphed as he balanced his step through the narrow gates.

He waited for a bit,
and his arms got tired. He looked around and the only place to sit on
was on the bench, right next to the large man. Now that Horace had
the chance to take a look at him, he was the bodybuilder/asshole kind
of person. Tight t-shirt over bloated muscles, dyed hair according to
the latest fashion, tattoos, skinny jeans. He also rolled a komboloi
in his hand, a circle of thread with beads in it, a traditional Greek
alternative to a stress ball.

Horace had no beef
with the guy, so he sat down next to him. The seats were tight, and
it was as if the man felt obligated to claim his space for he
stretched and turned and slowly pushed Horace to the side. Horace
tsked but said nothing.

After a few minutes,
the metro came. He got inside and stood in the middle of the
compartment, putting his box on the floor, making sure it was out of
the way.

Horace looked
outside and his mind wandered. He didn’t realise that the large man
had leaned down and grabbed one of his action figures from the box.
It depicted a female warrior from a game, Horace only liked female
action figures, and she was particularly buxom and wearing a skimpy
outfit.

“What’s this?
Jerk-off material? Playing with dolls, are you?” the large man
said, waving it around.

Horace blushed with
shame and he felt his blood boil. He didn’t want to confront
another person this day. Actually, he didn’t want to confront
another person this year, his quota had been used up. Not to mention
that the large man was a head taller and about twenty kilos heavier,
and they were all muscles. “Please, give me my action figure.”

“This thing?”
the large man smiled but he wasn’t friendly.

“Yes. It’s mine.
Please give it back.” He waited with a palm up.

“Want your doll
back?” the large man said slowly.

“Yes- What? No,
it’s not a doll. It’s an action figure, and it’s a collectible.
Please, give it back.”

Horace didn’t want
to confront the large man in this confined space. He waited and was
ready for anything.

But he wasn’t
ready for an elbow in his ribs. “Ow!” he started, stepping back.
It came from below. A short woman stood there, frowning at him. She
had black hair that poked around her head in angry short curls, an
angry face on a head that was slightly larger than it should be for
her height, and angry arms that were thicker than Horace’s. She
definitely had dwarfism, Horace could tell from the proportions of
her head and her limbs compared to her body.

“Aren’t you
gonna fight back?” she asked, slapping her fist inside her tiny,
but very powerful-looking palm.

Horace had no clue
how to answer that. “I have no clue how to answer that,” he said,
staring at her, mouth open. “Fight who? You?”

“Not me, you
idiot! But I wouldn’t mind going a few rounds with you. You look
like a bleeder, it will be fun. No, I’m talking about this pile of
meat over here. Punch him in the groin.”

“What? No, why?”
Horace said, shaking his head.

“He took something
from you, didn’t he?”

“Yes...”

“So punch him and
take it back!” she said, slapping her fist in her palm again and
making Horace jerk back.

“I will not do
that,” Horace said, as calmly as he could. What was it with this
day and insane women telling him what to do?”

“Of course you
wouldn’t.” She waved him away with her small hand. “If you were
ready, we wouldn’t be here, would we? Okay, fine, don’t punch him
in the groin, even though it’s nice and exposed like that. Then at
least, get back what he took from you.”

The large man wasn’t
paying attention. He was checking out the breasts on the action
figure and showing it to people around, chuckling and pointing at
Horace.

That was rude.

Horace balled his
fists but kept calm. He decided to deflate the situation with cunning
instead. Digging his hand into the box, he pulled up two more action
figures, one that was a cat lady, still busty, and another of a
witch. He presented them to the large man. “Here, you seem to like
playing with my dolls. Have some more.”

The large man
frowned down at him and then threw the action figure at Horace’s
chest. It bounced off and fell on the floor. Horace wanted nothing
more than to pick up his collectible action figure from the dirty
mass-transit floor, but managed to stay still.

The large man
grunted and stepped away, suddenly engrossed in his phone.

Horace picked up the
action figure and placed it back in the box.

The short lady put
her arms on her waist and frowned some more at him. “Hmm. Not what
I would have done, but it was a confrontation nonetheless. Don’t
let anyone say I cheated ya. Here, grab my token.”

Horace squinted at
her and was about to ask what the fuck she was talking about, but
then remembered the app. No way! This was nuts. He was nuts? Perhaps.
He fished out his phone and opened the Evil Thoughts app, pointing it
at the lady dwarf. There was indeed a token hovering in the air
before her, spinning slowly just like before. It said wrath in Greek,
ΟΡΓΗ.

“Seriously, lady,
what the fuck is happening here? Did you follow me around?”

She laughed
whole-heartedly and slapped him on the shoulder. It stung, it
seriously did. She was very strong. “You’re funny. We’re gonna
have a blast.”

“We? How? Do I
know you?” He looked her up and down, even if that distance wasn’t
that much to cover. She wore a plain red dress and brown moccasins
that were more suited for a man. The hair was like a black mop on
top, and she was somewhat average in beauty, barely touching the
level of pretty if he had time to get used to her. Nope, he’d never
met the crazy woman before in his life.

“This is your
stop, ain’t it?” she said, and before he could actually look up
and check he got kicked out, literally kicked
out
the coach’s doors by the dwarf lady.

He stumbled and
looked back, her short leg still in the air.

The doors closed and
she waved him off as she left the station, sliding to the left.

He looked around.
Nope, he wasn’t in the right stop, it was one too early. The metro
stopped at Kifisia station anyway, it was the end of the line, that
was why we never paid attention while returning home.

He grabbed the box
better and started walking home, basically going along the tracks. He
could wait for the next train but he was too angry to wait. He was
gonna pace up and down anyway so he might as well pace towards home.
It was hot and he got sweaty.

Why were these
things happening to him? Did he have a bull’s-eye in his back or
something? He seemed to be on the receiving end of crap such as this
for as long as he could remember. The same way some guys had a
don’t-fuck-with-me face, Horace seemed to have a sucker-here face.

He put one foot
after another and walked towards home. The last two stations weren’t
that far away after all, and the setting sun between the trees made
it cool and nice to walk about.

Chapter 6: Horace

Horace had enough
for one day. Getting fired, meeting with weird women, confronting not
one but two scary people, not to mention the heat. He was panting and
sweaty and the front door to his apartment building seemed like an
oasis.

Sure, he was
unemployed now. But that was a problem for later.

He walked up the
stairs, it was only the first floor and he didn’t wanna wait for
the elevator. He fumbled with the box, again, found his keys and got
inside.

His apartment was
big, too big for a bachelor living alone.. Of course, he could never
afford it on his own. It was his parents’ house, the one he grew up
in. His parents had gone to visit some family in Australia for a
prolonged summer in the winter, since seasons are swapped there, and
decided to stay.

No really, they went
there, loved the place, said, ‘What the heck, we’re retired
anyway,’ and asked him to ship off some of their belongings to
them.

So he was left alone
in a three-bedroom apartment in northern Athens. The area was called
Kifisia and it was one of the prominent ones, but it was way too far
away for the daily commute down to central Athens. The mass transit
was frequent but as with everything in Greece, you couldn’t really
rely on it to be on time. Horace usually spent at least one hour,
maybe an hour and a half back and forth every day. And that was on
the days with proper service, because the frequent strikes by the bus
or the metro drivers were creating new and exciting obstacles for him
to overcome.

That was Greece for
you.

He put the box down
which had soaked sweat from his wrists where he held it. He kicked
off his shoes, a habit from a lifetime of having his mother drill
good manners into him. And he went straight for the kitchen, poured a
cool glass of water and downed it all. In the same motion while
chugging water, he spread his arm to unlatch the window and let some
of the afternoon breeze in.

He found it open.

Had he forgotten it?
That was stupid, Horace. The apartment was old but burglaries were
pretty common around these parts, and couldn’t afford the fancy
home alarm system.

Shrugging and making
a mental note to check the balconies and the windows before going
out, he opened the fridge. The chilly air felt nice on his cheek.

“There’s no more
lemonade. You should go for another grocery run,” a tired voice
said from the living room.

Horace nodded in
agreement.

Then he froze in
shock, because he remembered he lived alone.

He turned towards
the living room and walked like a cat, stepping softly with his
socks. He looked around for something he could use as a weapon. He
had an ornamental dagger from some old videogame. It was flimsy, but
the burglar didn’t know that. Putting one foot in front of another,
he carefully approached the living room and peeked inside.

The TV was on.
Indeed, cans of lemonade were thrown all over the place.

Someone was sitting
on his sofa.

A female someone.

He looked behind
him, then tension lifted from his shoulders. Putting his back towards
the wall so he couldn’t be surprised by anyone else who might be
inside, he walked in the living room carrying a fantasy dagger.

“Who the fuck are
you?” he squeaked, a lot higher in pitch than he’d like. He
cleared his throat and repeated the question deeply, like a man. “I
mean, who are you?”

The woman turned
slowly to him. She had droopy eyelids, she looked like he had
interrupted her nap. How rude of him. She wore light blue pyjamas
that had lumps of thread from the excessive use. They looked comfy
and soft, and Horace was certain Evie would like them. She had a
blanket on her feet and was sitting comfortably, coiled on his sofa.
She was platinum blonde, and very thin. Her motions were veeery
slooow, and her voice sounded faraway, like Luna’s from the Harry
Potter movies. “Hello Horace. I’m Acedia. Nice to meet you,”
she said and smiled slowly at him.

Horace realised he
was threatening a skinny girl with a knife, so he pointed it away.
But she had after all broken into his home. He then noticed the light
blue travel bag next to her. “Yes, nice to meet you, Acedia,
whatever. Why are you in my house?”

“I’m going to
live here with you,” she said matter-of-factly.

“What?”

“Oh, excuse me,
sometimes I speak too softly. I said, I’m-”

“No, I heard you.
I said ‘what’ as in ‘why?’”

“Oh, wow. It’s
part of the Terms of Service you agreed to.” She slowly turned to
the TV, as if the matter was resolved.

Horace dropped the
dagger on the coffee table and walked between her and the TV. “What
terms are those?”

“Horace,” she
tsked slowly three times, “you really should read those things. You
never know what you might have agreed to.”

“You mean that
app?” he asked, frantic, looking for his phone in his pocket.

“Yes!” she said
with the minute excitement her eyes could muster.

He found the app and
went through the terms of service, scrolling wildly.

“Let me help you
with that. It says that the mortal, from hereon named user, agrees to
provide lodging and all necessary amenities in exchange for
guidance.”

“What sort of
guidance is that?”

She chortled slowly.
Then she stood up and it was like watching a glacier come towards
you. When she finally closed the distance, she touched his temple
with her bony finger. “Thought guidance, of course.”

Her eyes were light
blue and he lost his train of thought for a minute as he felt her
presence so close to him. The Acedia slowly walked back to her spot
and made herself comfortable.

On. His. Sofa.

“Look, lady, I
don’t know what sort of prank you and the other ladies are pulling
here...”

“No prank. I’m
staying. Now scoot over, I’m watching this show and the remote is
too far away for me to rewind it.”

Horace stepped
aside, then looked at the remote. Then at her. Then at the remote,
again. It was right next to her.

Right. Next. To her.

He snapped. “What
are you talking about? It’s right there! The fucking remote is
right there! Just move your hand, what, five, six centimetres?”

Acedia turned her
eyes at the remote and stared at it longingly. Then she sighed a deep
sigh of surrender, of defeat. Of laziness.

Horace threw his
arms up in the air. “Oh for fuck’s sake!” he said and walked
around the coffee table, picked up the remote, and placed it just a
few centimetres away right into her palm.

She looked up at him
and smiled. “Wow. Thank you, dear.”

The app glinged and
he opened the notification.

New token collected,
it said. The rotating AR object had the Greek word for sloth on it,
ΑΚΗΔΙΑ.

He tapped an icon on
the app that said, ‘Stats.’

Evil Thought Tokens

Gula 0

Luxuria 0

Avaritia 0

Superbia 1

Invidia 0

Ira 1

Acedia 1

He frowned, looking
at the frail woman on his sofa, then back at the app. What was the
name of that dwarf lady? Ira? And Superbia from before at the office,
and Acedia right here in front of him. So they were all in on the
trick.

But what was the
point to all this? It wasn’t funny. Were there hidden cameras? He
was nobody, a temp, people wouldn’t even bother to prank him, let
alone with something so elaborate as this, with apps and AROs and
various women.

Horace’s mind
raced and he whipped his head back to demand answers of Acedia or
whatever.

His only reply was a
soft snoring coming from the thin woman.

He blinked at her a
few times. Still snoring.

He sighed, then
covered her up with the blanket. It was still warm in the northern
suburbs but thin people like her were always feeling chilly.

Chapter 7: Ira

Ira waited in the
coach. When the large guy got off, she got off too. She walked behind
him, practically jogging, his legs were so long and hers were so much
shorter she couldn’t possibly keep up with him at a normal pace.

No matter. She
worked out, after all.

He climbed the metro
stairs and she shadowed him.

Despite her red
dress, he didn’t pay attention to her. She wasn’t that pretty,
and her being different made a lot of men look away.

Ira clenched her
fists and followed him. He got off the metro station and walked down
the street. Ira didn’t really know where she was but she didn’t
care. All she saw was red in her vision, all that mattered was the
unsuspecting son of a bitch in front of her, all she wanted was to
pummel him to the ground.

She saw a beggar
approach the large man as he walked past, shaking his foam cup,
making the coins rattle. The large man slapped the beggar away and
took his change.

What. An. Asshole.

The large man
noticed her glaring at him, and said, “What do you want, midget?”
He scoffed and walked away, not bothering with her any longer.

Ira’s nails were
practically digging into her palms. She dashed forward and tackled
the large man from behind. She didn’t need to fight fair. He
weighed twice as much as she did, after all.

The large man
groaned as he fell hard on the pavement. Ira climbed on top of him
and dug her heel in his belly. He cried out in pain as she stomped
him with her full weight. He fought her, clawing at her. She stomped
on his knee. He punched her straight in the face, making her nose
bloody.

The beggar cried out
and ran away.

Ira went full-on
rage and punched the large man. Her fists pounded on meat, her
knuckles bled and cut open, her face a single expression of wrath.

She delivered each
word with a punch to his face, “Midget. Is. Not. The. Politically.
Correct. Term!”

She continued doing
so until he stopped moving.

Chapter 8: Evie

“Wait, so you
actually went to get her some lemonade?” Evie asked, speaking on
the phone. She was lying on her back, her hair falling over the edge
of the bed. She liked positioning herself like that and putting her
feet up on the cool wall.

“Yeah, I’m at
the periptero around the corner,” Horace sighed over the phone. He
spoke of the kiosks that carried pretty much everything under the
sun, those little shops located at every Greek corner.

Evie knew which one
he was talking about. She’d hang out with him sometimes at home,
Kifisia was a great suburb with lots of pinetrees and flowers. They’d
watch movies or play board games together, and the periptero was a
constant destination for a resupply run of munchies and soft drinks.
Thinking of soft drinks, she pinched her belly. It was far more
pinchable than she liked. She had to work out more.

But she didn’t
wannaaa.

She huffed all
alone, covering her eyes with her free arm.

“Horace, she broke
into your house.”

“I know. But this
thing, ugh. It’s weird, but it doesn’t feel threatening. The
thing with the app and the tokens.”

“You said the
other woman literally mentioned danger.” By the goddess, he was so
thick-headed sometimes.

“She’s snoozing
right now, with a soft snore and everything. Anyway, we’ll see. She
might be an addict or something, the way she moves... I’ll kick her
out tomorrow.”

Evie felt a pang of
jealousy. It was irrational, she knew that. Horace wasn’t her
boyfriend. He wasn’t her anything. She never admitted that she took
that horrible temp job just to be around him for a few hours longer
each day.

That stupid, geeky
man wasn’t hers. At hearing that another woman would spend the
night dozing off on his sofa, that stung her a bit. It was their
thing, their
sofa. They hadn’t done anything more than just hang out and laugh
and whatever, but it was their thing.

Not this strange
woman’s who had broken into his home.

How fucked up was
that?

“But for now,
you’re gonna bring her lemonade.”

Horace inhaled
deeply. “Sure, why not?”

Oh, you poor, stupid
man.

Evie imagined that
slut all over Horace. ‘Bring me some lemonade,’ she imagined her
squeaky voice in her mind. ‘Bring me ice cream, it’s hot.’
‘Ooph, I’m gonna take this off, I hope you don’t mind.’

She shuddered and
pushed the images away.

What was this all of
a sudden? Her? Jealous? She hadn’t felt so jealous before. Maybe it
was because she was thirty and all her friends had married off and
got proper careers. She had carefully removed quite a lot of people
from her Agora page. She didn’t wanna get assaulted by the constant
barrage of marriage and baby pics.

It was too much.

She knew Horace from
high school. They’d been friends on and off as their lives shifted
into adulthood, but lately they had found they liked hanging out
together. He was very nerdy, into those fantasy games and cartoon
ladies that practically wore nothing at all and video games with the
same thing, but animated in polygons.

She thought it was
ridiculous at first, but after getting over her initial repulsion she
found that she damn well enjoyed those games. She loooved being a
badass sorceress that could call on flame and burn her enemies, her
boobs jiggling with carefully implemented physics. She loved hacking
through enemies as a female troll, impervious to physical damage,
shrugging off cuts and slashes, killing enemies with her big magical
sword.

She loved the escape
from her miserable life.

Sure, the community
at large was a bunch of weirdos. Nerdy, with glasses, most of them
definitely virgins.

Horace wasn’t a
virgin, she knew that. In fact, she knew all of his past conquests,
even that summer fling he hadn’t told anyone about with a older
teacher at Crete.

No, Horace was...
How would she describe him?

Not fit, certainly.
He didn’t work out much but had an average proper body. A slightly
receding hairline in his brown hair. She didn’t mind that, judging
by his dad, age would look good on him.

Evie really liked
his hands, though. Soft, triangular, artistic. He could make a lot of
things with those hands. He could paint, he could assemble models of
fantasy waggons and sci-fi tanks, he could work things on the
computer.

He was a head taller
than her, but she was short to begin with. She liked stepping on her
toes to hug him goodnight.

Evie realised she
was grinning like an idiot.

Horace was telling
her more things but she hadn’t heard a thing. “So, we’ll see
for the weekend, right?”

“Um, sure. Text
me,” she replied.

“Okay,” he said,
and hung up.

Evie felt flushed,
even hotter than she felt before. The phone was also overheating,
making the side of her face sweat.

Yeah, that was it.
She pfted.

It was the phone,
heating up. There was nothing more to it. She put her feet up on the
cool wall.

Chapter 9: Horace

Horace got back
inside his home. He peeked into the living room to double-check that
he wasn’t imagining things. Nope, there she was, Acedia, snoring
softly, the blanket up to her waist, TV still playing.

What was he going to
do with her? He didn’t really believe their story but he didn’t
have the heart to kick her out. Did she wanna move in?

Horace wouldn’t
mind that, he definitely had the space to spare and needed the cash.
But could she even afford anything?

Acedia looked like
the apotheosis of that lazy friend you had at university, the one
bumming all your cigarettes, crashing on your couch, eating all your
leftover pizza.

The one who inserted
himself like a leech into your life until things got too serious to
ignore and you had to cut him off rudely.

He put the lemonade
plus a few more munchies in the fridge. He noticed it running warm,
so he leaned inside and adjusted the temperature. It wasn’t Summer
yet but the days kept getting hotter and hotter.

His leftover anger
for Acedia barging into his place and planting herself on his sofa
evaporated quickly.

If he had to admit
it, he was kinda lonely. Sure, he saw people at work but nothing like
being friends with anyone. And his parents had been away for a long
time. He’d seen them two times in the past five years. They always
invited him over to Australia and offered to pay for his flight but
he never went through with it.

So now, he had a
huge apartment all to himself, big enough to house a family, three
bedrooms, two toilets, living room, balconies all over, good enough
view in a green area, one-hundred and twenty square metres to feel
bad about himself.

He knew the logical
thing to do was to rent out the apartment and go live somewhere more
affordable, but he always put it off for next year and time just went
by. Things popped up, you know?

He went into his
boyhood room and shut the door. Doing that, shutting the door, was
something he hadn’t gotten used to doing these last few years. He
took out the action figures from the box and put them on the shelves,
next to the other ones in his collection.

Horace knew he
wasn’t making it easy for himself to flaunt his geeky interests at
his place of work. People snickered and made fun of him when he
turned his back, but after a couple of months nobody really bothered
anymore. He just couldn’t understand it, the guy right next to him
had a full-blown Olympiacos shrine over there, in reds and whites.
Athletes, cups, ticket stubs of some football championship or
another.

Why was this
considered tolerable and normal?

It was a shitty
double-standard. The sports fans dressed up, painted their bodies,
behaved like insane people and it was somehow more acceptable than a
bunch of intelligent guys quietly appreciating storytelling and
playing video games.

Horace realised he
was doing the same thing, judging Acedia by a two-minute encounter.
He decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. He dusted off the
action figures and the other statues in his collection. He always
preferred sci-fi stories, but the women from fantasy tales were
always calling to him.

Then he relaxed in
his room for a bit, thinking about what snack to make afterwards for
the both of them. Something healthy, carrots and shit. Yeah, that
would be best. He knew he was in for a long haul of job-seeking days,
and he knew damn well from past cycles in his life that he slowly
fell to bad habits, like eating takeout every day and sleeping in. It
was inevitable, he knew that, but the more he pushed back the decay,
the better.

He stood up and got
to wash some dishes, taking extra care not to make a lot of noise. It
was easy to tell if Acedia was still napping, you just had to listen
for the cute snoring sound.

It was late but
there was still light. The days were getting longer. He prepared a
somewhat healthy dinner, turkey and cheese sandwiches with a side of
carrots and potato chips. He’d go for healthier groceries tomorrow.
He could no longer hear Acedia snoring. He picked up two of the
chilly lemonades and brought the tray to the living room.

She turned her
droopy eyes towards him. “Mmm, nice. Is this for me?”

“Yeah, thought
you’d be hungry by now.” He put the tray on the coffee table and
sat down next to her, but not too close so as to make her
uncomfortable.

If she minded, she
didn’t show it.

“Wow. That’s
very sweet of you,” Acedia said in her drolling voice. She picked
up a carrot with an oh-so-slow motion and nibbled on it like a
rabbit.

He sighed. “Acedia,
look. If this is a joke, I’m not in the mood. I’ve just been
fired today and I need to take a minute and think about what I’m
gonna do, you understand.”

She waved the
worries away. “Wow. Relax,” she breathed out the word. “Let go
of the worry. This is us, here, now. You and me. Let’s enjoy each
other’s company. Let’s eat snacks and watch some TV shows. I’m
in the mood for some crime drama, just a season or two.”

Horace snorted.
“That argument of yours went in a way different direction than what
I thought it would.”

Acedia ate a potato
chip. It was a very small one. No wonder she was so skinny. “Don’t
you like to binge?”

“Oh, I do like it!
But...” his voice trailed off. Yeah, what was he worrying about?
Today had been a shitty, weird day. He needed to cool off and empty
his mind by the time-honoured tradition of bingeing on bad TV shows,
not worry his ass off about tomorrow. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

Acedia smiled but it
didn’t go all the way up her cheeks. Gods, she was too lazy to even
smile properly? What a weird little lady.

Horace shrugged,
leaned back next to Acedia, put on a TV show with criminals and stuff
and munched on his chips, letting the worries wash off of him.

Chapter 10: Horace

“You know, you
have an impressive ability to nap through the entire episode but
still keep up with what’s going on,” Horace said to her when they
got halfway to the second season.

Acedia beamed at
him. “Wow. Thank you! I try.”

They had gone
through the night, took a nap, woke up, watched the end of the
season, cursed at it for ending on a cliffhanger, then put on the
second season, and now they were at episode 5. It was the next
morning and they had barely moved a muscle, just a couple of trips to
the bathroom.

Acedia had napped on
and off the entire time. No wonder she kept wearing her light blue
pyjamas.

Horace had to admit
it was fun hanging out with her. They discussed the show, talked
about the endless cliches, predicted whodunit and what would happen
next, who would hook up with who. She was very relaxing to be around,
and the guilt of doing nothing just seemed like an afterthought when
he was around Acedia.

He knew this was the
thing he and Evie did together, but it wasn’t such a bad thing,
skipping it for a night. He’d make it up to her.

It was midday. “Come
on, it will be fun,” he said.

Acedia sighed. “It
sounds like a lot of work.”

“Going to the
supermarket? Not really, people do it every week. Sometimes twice a
week.”

Acedia looked
shocked, as if someone had asked her to dig a hole for a grave.
Twice.

“Okay, do this for
me once. If you don’t like it, I’ll never even mention it again.”

She sighed audibly.
“Fine. Is it far away?”

“Just around this
corner, two streets down.”

She nodded, steeling
herself. “So it is far.”

Horace couldn’t
help but laugh. He was throwing groceries in the shopping cart while
towing Acedia around. She was thin enough to fit in the baby seat,
and she was having lots of fun while he pushed her around the shop.
As long as she didn’t have to move, she was into everything.

“Wow. Grab these,
they are precooked,” she said, pointing at some meals. She could
have reached down and grabbed them herself, but nooo, he had to do it
for her.

“We said we’re
shopping healthy. Let’s not descend into the inevitable fast food
diet from day 1 of being unemployed.” He crinkled the wrapping to
read the instructions.

She pouted for a
second then forgot all about it when they got to the cornflakes.
“Horace, I have something to confess.”

“What?”

“I ate all your
cornflakes.”

“I know. I was
there. You eat them one at a time. It’s maddening to watch.”

“Can you get some
more? Please?” She begged, gripping her hands before her chest.

Horace forced down a
chuckle. Without breaking eye-contact, and without moving a muscle
other than his shoulder and the accompanying ones in his arm, he
grabbed a box of corn flakes and threw it in the shopping cart.

“Yay!” she
beamed at him, clapping once.

“If only all girls
were as easy to please as you,” Horace said, shaking his head.

The rest of the
shopping run was pretty standard. He got some sandwich materials,
then doubled them. Acedia didn’t eat much but he planned to offer
it to her. He especially didn’t want her to avoid eating because of
thinking she’d have his share.

At the little shop
inside the supermarket where they give you cold cuts of various
meats, his vision filled with a big woman. She wore a bright orange
top and a billowy black skirt. She wore a little backpack with
cartoons on. She turned straight towards him, looked him straight in
the eye, then glanced at his shopping cart, scoffed
at the contents, then emptied her groceries bag inside his cart.

“What- Who-” he
said, dumbfounded.

“What is this, a
meal for ants? These should get us through today. We’ll come around
again tomorrow,” the fat woman said and ordered a couple of
sausages. She was very cute, one of those big ladies that could pull
off a killer selfie, provided they didn’t show the rest of the
body. Her features were kind and inviting, and her smile was
gorgeous. Her hair were wisps of brunette strands cut short.

“Wow. Sister, you
forgot to introduce yourself again,” Acedia said, in the tone of
voice of a person who kept reminding people of the same thing.

“Right. Sorry. I’m
Gula Gastrimargia. Just call me Gula.” She was nice and friendly.
Her various cuddly parts jiggled up and down as she moved.

“I’m Horace.
You’re her sister?” He looked from one to the other, but there
really was no resemblance.

“In a way, yes,”
Acedia drolled.

“Come, Horace,
let’s go back home and eat. All this food around is making me
hungry,” Gula said and pulled him around while he gripped on the
shopping cart like a train of crazy people.

Acedia squeed from
delight, arms up in the air. Then she got tired and just sat there,
contempt to just get carried along.

Chapter 11: Horace

The dinner was...
ugh... interesting.

Gula downed the
entire cooked chicken she had brought from the supermarket, then ate
the chips, then the salad, then washed it all down with a couple of
soft drinks. Then she leaned in for the corn flakes, which Acedia
protected, close to her chest.

The kitchen table
hadn’t been used since his parent had left. He usually ate at the
sofa while watching some series or on his computer. Having people
over made the use of the table a necessity, and Horace was glad he’d
done so because the mess looked a lot easier to clean up afterwards.

But he had to admit
he enjoyed eating dinner with company. The fact that it was two
ladies also helped.

Gula punched a fist
into her chest a couple of times, then burped gently. Her expression
content, she leaned back on the chair.

“Full?” Horace
asked.

“For now. Thank
you, Horace. Here’s my token.” She motioned gently in the air
before her as if blowing on a handful of leaves.

Horace checked his
app. Indeed, there was a token. He collected it, and it said the word
Gluttony in Greek, ΛΑΙΜΑΡΓΙΑ.

He couldn’t help
himself checking the stats. It was addictive, like all games were,
even one as strange as this one. What would he actually do with all
the tokens?

He needed to ask the
girls some pointed questions.

Evil Thought Tokens

Gula 1

Luxuria 0

Avaritia 0

Superbia 1

Invidia 0

Ira 1

Acedia 2

“Gula, how long
are you staying?” he asked.

She shrugged and
smiled at him, wiping her mouth with a napkin. She was still full of
crumbs on her large chest, however. “For as long as success takes.
Or failure.”

“How cryptic,”
he nodded, grinning. He made a mental calculation of his bank
account. Most of the groceries they’d bought were gone. Or, all
over the table and the floor. Gula was a messy eater. Acedia, on the
other hand, could nibble on a crumb for two hours. Both were
maddening.

If he kept this up
his cash would be gone in a week.

He needed to get out
and look for a job tomorrow. Hanging out with Acedia was nice but he
couldn’t postpone it.

He stood up and
washed the dishes. Acedia still munched on a cornflake, and it could
still very much be the same one he saw her holding earlier.

“I’ll help,”
Gula said and pushed him aside with her butt. “Actually, let me do
them all.”

“Okay,” Horace
agreed. “I’m tired, didn’t get much sleep yesterday. And I
slept on the couch which is terrible for my back.” Then he realised
he had guests over. “Ugh, sleeping arrangements, right.”

He opened his mouth
to argue but he didn’t really have the strength for it. “Fine.
You, Gula? The guest room is right down the hall. You can sleep
there. It’s practically turned into an office space but the bed is
comfortable. Got anything you might need?”

She turned her
pretty face and nodded towards her backpack. “It’s all in there.”

“Excellent. Well,
ladies, make yourselves at home. Not that you haven’t already, but
here it is formally,” he chuckled. “Goodnight, I’ll bring down
clean sheets and some extra pillows and I’m off to bed.”

Chapter 12: Horace

Horace opened his
eyes and stared at the ceiling. He kept trying to remember if the
insanity of the last couple of days was a dream or if it was real.
And if it was a dream, was it a normal one or a nightmare?

He heard giggling
coming from the living room.

Real, then.

He got up, threw
water on his face and became presentable, then made a frappe for
himself. From the aftermath in the kitchen, it seemed Gula had
already made herself one, plus a couple of sandwiches. At least she
cleaned up after herself in the end.

Sipping glorious
coffee, he walked into the living room.

Acedia, not
surprisingly, was curled in the same spot on the sofa. Gula sat on
the armchair. They were watching some sitcom.

Horace didn’t need
to watch no sitcom. His life had currently turned into one. All that
was missing was the canned laughter. “Good morning, ladies.”

“Good morning,”
they both said in different reaction speeds.

“It’s already
eleven o’clock. I’m gonna be off to hit some of my old jobs in
case there’s some spot available. Will you be okay on your own back
here?”

Gula looked
hesitant. “If you could get some chocolates on the way back, then
I’ll be fine.”

“Chocolates, sure.
Anything else? You, Acedia? Need anything?”

“Nope,” she said
softly. “But I would like you to hang out with me and watch the
rest of the season.”

Horace chuckled.
“Hah! You can watch ahead, I don’t mind, that show is really
formulaic anyway. I don’t think I’m missing out on much. But I
will join you tonight.”